


A Little Better Every Day

by NYKevin



Series: The Myth of Pacifism [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (but his workshop does), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Asriel Dreemurr has issues, Character Study, Everything is just like canon (except the parts that aren't), Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Pacifist Frisk (Undertale), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Present Tense, SAVED Asriel Dreemurr, Sans (Undertale) Doesn't Remember Resets, Sans isn't a complete jerk (Undertale), Undertale Reset Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22626475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NYKevin/pseuds/NYKevin
Summary: Asriel has good days, and bad days. But some days, he wishes he was still a flower. Nobody is happy about this.Rated T for language, otherwise content is generally no more objectionable than canon. Contains references to Flowey's backstory, which is canonically violent. There is also some visible human-monster racism, which may have uncomfortable parallels to real life for some readers. However, this is not a story specifically about racism.
Relationships: Asriel Dreemurr & Everyone, Frisk & Sans (Undertale)
Series: The Myth of Pacifism [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637650
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Start Menu

**Author's Note:**

> Story uses fonts. If you don't enable the work skin, or if you are missing fonts, some things may look odd or even be difficult to understand. For the adventurous reader: My work skin is different from the standard Undertale work skin, so if you've done something clever with user CSS to make Undertale fics look different in your browser, it might not work without tweaking. I apologize for any inconvenience.
> 
> The narrator is listed at the beginning of each chapter. If you want to turn off the work skin most of the time, I recommend leaving it turned on when Chara is narrating, because otherwise Frisk's dialog may be difficult to distinguish from the surrounding text.
> 
> This story is _not_ in continuity with any other fan work including my own. However, portions of this story may have happened (in broad strokes) in almost any post-pacifist “save Asriel” fanfic.

Chara 

Toriel gazes into the setting sun, a wistful expression on her face. "Yes, it is beautiful, is it not? But we should really think about what comes next."

The thought strikes you like a blow. You had been so focused on finding a solution, any solution, to Asriel's problem, that you had not begun to consider what would happen afterwards. A tearful reunion with his parents, natch, but nothing beyond that. 

"Oh, right," says Asgore, as though Toriel had suggested buying a bottle of milk. "Everyone... This is the beginning of a bright new future. An era of peace between humans and monsters."

The king's hopeful words fill you with determination. 

"Frisk... I have something to ask of you. Will you act as our ambassador to the humans?"

You tell Asgore that you will try your best. 

Asriel puts a reassuring paw on your shoulder. "You'll do fine, Frisk. You made friends with the entire Underground in an afternoon, right? Diplomacy is your thing."

You and Sans exchange a glance, but neither of you say anything. 

A flurry of activity happens. Papyrus decides he will be the monsters' mascot, and leaves to "make a good first impression." Sans takes a shortcut to... somewhere else. Undyne and Alphys chase after the taller skeleton. Now it's just you and the Dreemurr family. 

"Whoops," says Asgore. A long pause. "Uh, should I do something?"

Toriel shoots him a withering gaze. He seems to break under it. 

"Well, gotta go!" he says, withdrawing. He follows the other monsters away from his ex-wife and son. 

You feel a tremor in Asriel's paw, still on your shoulder. You put your hand on his. Asriel sighs and lets it fall. You take hold of it and squeeze, just for a moment. He looks a little less anxious. 

"It seems that everyone is quite eager to set off," says Toriel. "Frisk, you came from this world, right? So you must have a place to return to, do you not? What will you do now?"

Time seems to stop for a moment. You've always known, right from the start, that you have to leave the Underground. It has not been a desire, or even a preference. It has been a _force_ , like gravity. Suddenly, the force is gone. You feel a terrible sense of uncertainty and aimlessness creeping up on you. A part of your mind cries out— 

But somebody came. 

"Frisk," says Asriel. "You know you're welcome to stay with us, right? After everything you did, for me, for all of the monsters—"

"Asriel," says Toriel, her voice gentle but firm, "Frisk may have a family, or others, to return to. We cannot keep them apart from humanity, just to satisfy our own selfish need for companionship. A lesson I took far too long to learn," she adds, her face affectionate but somber. 

You take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. You never had anywhere to go. That was why you climbed Mt. Ebott in the first place. There was nobody waiting for you. 

"Oh, my child," she says, drawing her arms around your small frame. "If you have nowhere to go, of course I will take care of you."

You feel another pair of fuzzy arms join the embrace. Asriel. "And I'll be your brother! Just like with—" His voice falters. "...like with Chara," he finishes. 

You give him a concerned look, and gently ask if he wants to talk about it. 

Asriel shakes his head, smiling weakly. "Thank you, Frisk. But I just need some time."

* * *

The three of you reach the base of the mountain with little difficulty. The trail slopes downward at a leisurely pace, and the walking gives your thoughts time to settle. After all those RESETs, all the different timelines, you and Asriel are finally leaving the Underground for good. 

Before you stands an abandoned hut, overgrown with weeds. Perhaps the sorcerers who ensnared the monsters used it as an outpost, long ago. But it doesn't look old enough, now that you think about it. Its style is modern, and it can't have stood empty for more than a few years or so. You don't remember any of your social studies teachers mentioning monsters in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Or anywhere else in colonial America, for that matter. So they must have been sealed before that period... right? 

Papyrus is rapping at the door intently, pausing every few seconds to wait for a response that will never come. Undyne and Alphys are sitting against the wall, Undyne looking frustrated and Alphys short of breath. You guess that Undyne wasn't able to talk Papyrus into giving up. Asgore stands off to the side, wearing an utterly baffled expression. 

You take Papyrus's other hand and tug at it gently. 

"Frisk? You're just in time! The Great Papyrus is about to demonstrate his superior mascot-ing skills. Then you can go in and make friends, like you always do!"

You tell Papyrus that no one lives here. 

"Why would the humans leave a perfectly good house here? No, I must not be knocking hard enough." He continues striking the door. 

"Hey, punk," says Undyne, "you think I didn't tell him that already?"

You frown, and ask Papyrus to let you try something else. 

"Sure! You're the ambassador, after all." He steps aside. 

You reach up, turn the knob, and push. 

The door swings open, its hinges complaining loudly at their lack of maintenance. It's obvious the place is deserted. All the same, Undyne plucks a glowing spear from thin air and does a quick sweep of the place. 

"Empty," she calls. 

Asgore seems to snap out of it. "Frisk... this is a bit embarrassing, actually. The surface world has changed since we were sealed. I need to get to London to negotiate our status with the King. I know I should go east, but I want a more specific destination. Is the city of Boston still there, or should I go to another port?"

Everything Asgore said makes a kind of sense, but he is completely wrong on every detail. You're not sure where to begin. Eventually, you tell him that the colonies declared their independence in 1776, more than 200 years ago. 

"Oh my, has it really been that long?" says Toriel. 

"Yes," replies Asgore. "It has. I counted the sunsets. You can—could just make them out through the barrier. But I did not anticipate such dramatic geopolitical upheaval."

Undyne emerges from the hut carrying a laminated sheet of paper. "Hey, guys, I found this note," she says, handing it to Toriel. 

Toriel puts on her glasses and begins reading aloud. "This hut is the property of the Massachusetts Recreational Hiking and Mountaineering Association. You are free to use it for short periods of time without prior arrangement, provided you leave everything as you found it. Please remember to sign the guest book, to help us understand the usage patterns of this hut. If you find our services valuable, consider making a donation." She lowers the note to her side. "Given the hour, that sounds like a good first step. Our destination may be more obvious in the morning."

"Hold that thought, Tori." Sans appears from around the corner of the hut. You wonder where he was in the meantime. You see Asriel's tiny flinch of discomfort as the skeleton comes into view, but he covers it well and nobody else seems to notice. The sad part is, you probably know Asriel's body language better than his own mother, given how much subjective time you spent with him. 

"Sans, is something the matter?" asks Toriel. 

"Probably not. But me and the kid have to talk. Alone. If you don't mind, we'll borrow the hut for a bit, and then you can set yourselves up."

Toriel folds her arms. "Anything you have to say to Frisk, you can say in front of the rest of us."

You tell Toriel that it's a personal issue, and nothing she has to worry about. 

"If you're sure, Frisk," she says, looking just a little hurt. "But please remember that you can come to me with anything."

You promise you'll tell her when you're ready, and follow Sans into the hut. 

It's much neater on the inside than the outside. The two of you stand in a kitchenette surrounding the entrance, with a sink and a camp stove. There are several twin-sized beds along the outer walls, all neatly made. You guess that the exterior would be better maintained during the summer, when more hikers come up here. Still, it seems very disused. Maybe Mt. Ebott just isn't very popular. It's a little too far from civilization for casual hikers, and a little too easy for the serious mountaineers. No wonder it took so long for eight humans to fall into the Underground. 

Sans sits down at a table in the kitchenette. You sit opposite him. 

"So, I notice we made it down the mountain this time. Anything you wanna tell me, kid?"

You nod. 

Sans pauses, waiting for more, and then his ever-present grin widens a notch. "All right, lemme rephrase. How did you save Asriel this time, and why didn't you do it the last hundred or so times?"

You shake your head. It's not your place to say what happened to Asriel. Sans will have to ask him. 

"Kinda expected that answer," he replies. "Still, you can at least tell me he's not gonna hurt anyone, right?"

You don't think Asriel could hurt anyone ever again. 

"You _think_ he's harmless," repeats Sans. "What does he think?"

You shrug. He's been through a lot. He probably doesn't trust himself. 

"Well, at least one of you gets how serious this is. I'll just have to hope that's enough." A rather loud bird chirps outside. Sans's eyes momentarily flick towards the window, and almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head. You can practically feel the skeleton relaxing, as if he is thinking of all the ways things could have turned out worse. "So, are you gonna RESET, or is this one gonna stick?"

You don't want to RESET now that Asriel is safe. But you might, if something really bad happens, like the humans declaring war again. 

"That's... not exactly the answer I wanted to hear, but it's pretty close. I'll take it."

You ask Sans if he is angry with you. 

He shakes his head. "I stopped caring enough to get angry a long time ago. You wanna play God? Well, not like I can stop you. Not like I could stop him. 'sides, you used your power pretty responsibly, far as I can tell. Nobody died or anything."

You freeze, trembling at his words. 

Sans notices it. "Frisk, I know you never killed. I was keeping score, remember? You always had zero EXP, right from the moment you left the Ruins. It's impossible for you to have killed anyone."

You slowly explain what happened the first time you fought Toriel. How you regretted it immediately, how you took it all back. How Flowey mocked you for it. A tear streams down your cheek. 

"Hey, Frisk." Sans catches the tear with a phalanx and wipes it away. "She's not dead. She's right outside. It's all right to be upset, but you can't let it consume you. You must've been through the Underground over a hundred times since then, and in all that time, you never hurt a soul. So stop beating yourself up already."

You nod, letting your emotions go. You change the subject, asking if he ever thought you were like Flowey. 

The skeleton seems to consider his answer. "I think it must have taken me a good twenty or thirty RESETs before I figured you had a goal in mind and weren't just playing house. And I didn't even know what that goal was 'till the two of you walked out of the Ruins together. A little communication would've been nice, but it's not like I tell people things."

You ask Sans if wants to talk things out with Asriel. 

The lights in his eyes wink out for just a moment. You almost think you imagined it. "Are you listening, kid? I'm not angry. At anyone. I've got nothing to say to him, and he probably doesn't wanna talk to me anyway."

You stare at him intently, your determination shining like a beacon. It's not about what either Asriel or Sans wants. It's about what they both need. 

"Frisk, don't give me that look. I—dammit, you're almost as bad as Papyrus." He slumps in his seat, defeated. "OK, fine. I'll talk to him. But not anytime soon. I think he needs some time to get used to being a _kid_ again."

You beam, at both the pun and at Sans's promise. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a total pushover. You and Toriel keep an eye on him, and we'll see where things stand in a couple of weeks."

By unspoken agreement, you both decide to leave the conversation there. 

* * *

Two weeks later... 

The sun is too bright. Like every morning, it streams right into your room with no respect for the blinds, nor for any reasonable sleep schedule. 

From the other bed, you hear Asriel groan. He covers his head with a pillow and promptly resumes snoring. Some things never change. 

You, however, get right up, and begin your morning routine. By the time you've finished, Asriel is just about awake, albeit still lying in bed. 

"G'morning," mumbles your brother. He pulls the blanket aside and climbs out of bed. Just like every morning, his fur is a tangled mess. 

There is a knock at the door. 

Asriel pads over and opens it, yawning. "Morning, mom, what's for breakfast?"

Toriel takes her son's paw in one arm, and your hand in the other. "I have just returned from Salem with groceries," she says, leading the three of you into the kitchen. "Because it is not a school day, and I now have the required ingredients, I will make pancakes."

"Yay, pancakes!" Asriel cries, shedding his fatigue in an instant. "With butterscotch chips?"

"Of course." Toriel guides you and Asriel to the table and releases her grasp. She gets a mixing bowl from under the counter, and begins searching the cupboard for various dry ingredients. 

There is a knock at the door. 

"Oh, Frisk, could you get that?" says Toriel. 

You walk through the living room to the front door, and open it. 

Sans grins at you. "Hey, Frisk. May I come in?" You nod, and he follows you into the kitchen. 

"Sans," says Toriel, "what a pleasant surprise. I was about to make pancakes, so you have arrived just in time." She begins pouring the dry ingredients into the bowl. 

"Oh, that's all right, Tori, you don't—"

"Nonsense, I insist!" Toriel looks around the kitchen for a moment. It's a little crowded. "Could the three of you please move into the dining room? I will need the space to work."

"Um, actually—" says Asriel in a small voice. 

"Of course!" interrupts Sans. "Mind showing me the way, kids?"

You take Sans's skeletal hand, and Asriel's fluffy paw, giving the latter a little squeeze of reassurance. You walk into the dining room. The door swings shut behind you. 

Sans releases your hand. His left eye flashes a brilliant blue for just a moment. Your brother's paw spasms as if in fear, but nothing seems to happen. "There, now we can talk," says Sans. 

"What did you do?" asks Asriel. 

"Just a muffle spell, so your mom doesn't have to hear you talking about all the people you killed."

Asriel's eyes begin to water. He sits at the table, and wipes them off with the sleeve of his pajamas. 

You shoot Sans a glare. Can't he be a little gentler? Doesn't he know what Asriel has been through? 

"Yeah, that came out wrong." Sans sits opposite Asriel. "Sorry, Fl—Asriel." He takes a breath, and seems to come to a decision. "When I see you, I still think of that little flower. I know you're not exactly... the same? Help me out here, I'm still a little fuzzy on the details. What was going on in your, or his head?"

Asriel takes a deep breath, and begins telling Sans a story you have never heard before. The story of when he first woke up as a flower. How his lack of compassion made everything feel empty, and void of meaning. How he learned to SAVE. How he started killing, not as an act of desperation, but out of pure curiosity. How it slowly drove him insane. Sans listens intently through it all. 

"Damn, that's some heavy stuff. I had no idea." You notice a tremor in Sans's hand. "I can't hold the spell for much longer, but kid... you really have to talk to someone about this. Someone more qualified than me, I mean."

"And who did you have in mind?" snaps Asriel, suddenly annoyed. You're not sure what set him off, but it's like a switch flipped in his head. 

A bead of sweat rolls down Sans's skull. You didn't know he could sweat. "I dunno, maybe we can—"

But Asriel doesn't let him finish. "Do what? It's not like Alphys is any better at this than you." He catches your eye. "Can you believe this guy, Char—" He cuts himself off, his eyes widening in realization. "No," he whispers, looking down at his paws. They are trembling. 

You take your brother's paw again, this time in both hands, and concentrate. His SOUL, a white hot spade of love, hope, and compassion, burns clear and bright as the moment you SAVED him for the last time. You look him in the eye, and tell him that nothing has changed. 

Asriel looks relieved, but only for a moment. "If it's not the SOUL, then it must be me."

Sans is looking increasingly strained, and you're starting to get concerned. He never pushed himself this hard in the Underground. "As fascinating as this conversation is, especially the part where you think your SOUL is somehow different from yourself, we should really—"

"No!" interrupts Asriel. "If I'm regressing, you're all in danger around me. We have to do something, now!"

You agree with Sans. Asriel has been fine for two weeks. Another few hours won't— 

"Frisk, don't you get it?" your brother insists. "I must have killed almost every monster in the Underground. I killed Undyne, I killed Papyrus, I even killed my own parents!"

"My... child?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: Why are they suddenly in (or near) Salem? There are no mountains near Salem!  
> A: Because two weeks elapsed.
> 
> Q: Why does Sans suddenly think of Asriel and Flowey as two different people?  
> A: Because two weeks elapsed.
> 
> Q: Why can Toriel just walk into town and buy groceries, without scaring people?  
> A: I'm pretty sure she drove.
> 
> Q: Is there a such thing as the “Massachusetts Recreational Hiking and Mountaineering Association?”  
> A: Anything's possible, but I made them up, so probably not.
> 
> Q: When I copy text, the quotation marks get lost.  
> A: I think this is a bug in Chrome. Anyway, there's not much I can do about it without dramatically restructuring my creative process. Talk to your browser's developers if you don't like this behavior.


	2. It's Raining Somewhere Else

Sans 

I'm such a fucking coward. I should have stayed. Toriel at least deserved to hear the truth from me. But she and the kids were so worked up... I would've been a distraction. They need to heal, first. 

"Sans? Are you feeling all right?" My brother sits on the couch next to me. He takes the remote from my loose grip and turns off the infomercials I was pretending to watch. I belatedly realize that I was too distracted to channel surf for something more believable. The humans have so many channels compared to the underground... so why is there never anything on? 

"Yeah, I'm fine, bro," I answer, a little too quickly. 

My brother narrows his eyes. "No bad joke? Sans, what is the matter with you?"

"Just a little argument over at Tori's," I dodge, running on automatic. It was technically true. 

Papyrus gives me a knowing look, placing the remote on the coffee table. "Brother, you can tell me anything. Please do."

I consider it. Papyrus is a lot smarter than most people give him credit for. In more than a few timelines, he managed to figure out the time loop, and I've never been able to hide my emotional state from the guy, despite all the other secrets. I didn't really set out to lie to him. It just got easier after a while. I knew the anomaly was manipulating him, and trying to explain everything was invariably exhausting. But that's all over and done with, I hope. No more waking up as the previous timeline fades away like a bad dream. If Frisk keeps their word, that is. If they don't, then it won't really matter what I tell Papyrus in this iteration. 

"All right, Paps. Tori overheard the prince talking about some... bad stuff he did before Frisk rescued him." It isn't really my place to tell Papyrus that Asriel was a serial killer in a past life. "They're hugging it out now. Everything'll be fine in a day or two."

He stiffens, looking concerned. "Oh, Sans, why didn't you say so! Flowey was always so troubled. I can't imagine what Miss Toriel and Prince Dreemurr must be going through right now."

That was not the reaction I expected. "Paps, how much do you know about this?"

"Sans, you think because you told me nothing, I ought to know nothing. Is that it?" He folds his arms in annoyance. "I was friends with him for months, while you thought he was just an echo flower. Of course I could see that he was hurting." Papyrus shakes his head. "He blamed himself for something that happened long ago, though he never told me what. It tainted his entire perspective. He really wanted to believe there was nothing good left in himself. But that was never true. Bad people don't feel guilt." He pauses, a contemplative look on his face. "A missing SOUL wasn't the cause of his woes, it was just a convenient excuse. I didn't know if I could help him, or even if he wanted my help. But I had to try."

Well, there you go. All this time, I thought it was the anomaly manipulating him. A few more years, and he might've even succeeded. Or maybe not. Hard to tell with soulless flowers. "Y'know, I'm always telling people that you're a pretty smart guy. Maybe, one of these days, I'll start taking my own advice."

"Why not take my advice instead? I advise you to call Miss Toriel and ask if she and Asriel are feeling all right, instead of sitting here imagining the worst."

Once again, he can read me like an open book. "OK. But they were kinda in the middle of something, so I think I'll text her instead."

Papyrus beams at me. "I knew you could do it! Now that I know you're OK, I can make us breakfast." He gets up and walks into the kitchen, ready to prepare another unspeakable monstrosity for our consumption. 

I pull out my phone and begin composing. "Tori, sorry for leaving. I figured u and the kids needed some privacy. If there's anything I can do, let me know." Not my most masterful writing, but it's just a text. I hit the send button, and stare at the phone for a few minutes. Of course, there's no reply. Don't know why I got my hopes up. I shove the phone into my track shorts and head for the kitchen. 

* * *

My phone vibrates. I pick up. "Hello, Sans. This is Toriel." I feel ice pouring into my nonexistent stomach. "May I speak with you in person?"

"Of course," I reply, doing my best to keep my voice from trembling. 

"I am at the park. Can you meet me here?"

The park? Weird. "Sure. I guess you have questions about, well, everything?"

"Yes, I do. But I do not wish to interrogate you over the phone."

"That's fine. But I should probably go over my notes first, so it might be a little while." Not an excuse. I mean, not really. She's going to want to know about the timelines. So of course I should refresh my memory. Right? 

"Thank you, Sans. I truly appreciate it." She sounds a lot calmer than I was expecting. It's been a few hours since I deserted her, but I hadn't expected her to get over the situation this quickly. 

The phone beeps and disconnects. I pocket it, and get off the sofa. "Paps, I'm headed out," I call. "Should be back in time for lunch."

"Good for you, Sans!" Papyrus replies from his room. "I'm happy to see you're getting out and about." Yeah, yeah. He's always nagging me to be more active. He's right, of course. But that just makes it worse. 

Long-distance shortcuts are harder to pull off, but I don't want to leave Toriel waiting for too long, so I'll have to grin and bear it. I reach out and feel around for a shortcut terminus near Ebott. I find one, right next to the hut we used on our first night aboveground, and I pull the thread. The world goes dark for an instant, and I'm standing at the base of the mountain. Back where it all began. 

I take a quick look around, but of course no one is nearby. Shortcuts don't work right with too many observers. Something about quantum decoherence. Sometimes I miss being a scientist, and, well, knowing stuff. But I shake it off. No point in reminiscing now. I quickly transfer to the familiar Snowdin terminus, right next to Grillby's. 

I'm standing in the center of a completely deserted town. Everyone has already moved to the surface. The whole place is eerily quiet. 

"Hey, you!" shouts a voice. I nearly jump out of my slippers. But it's just Gyftrot, annoyed as usual. "Aren't you people supposed to be gone by now?"

"Don't mind me," I reply. "I'm just grabbing some things, and then I'll make like a tree, and get outta here."

Gyftrot blinks, apparently not getting the anti-joke. Probably my fault for trying to pick up a whole new genre of humor after watching a few human TV shows. I'll have to work on my delivery. 

"You do that," they reply. "And do me a favor: Make sure you got everything this time."

"Yeah, I'll do my best not to bother you again. Sorry 'bout that." I turn and head for our old house. I let myself into the workshop, and grab my notebook. The one constant across all these timelines. The one thing I had hoped to never need again. And my one link to my previous selves. 

Of course, I have no intention of taking it with me, never mind what I told Gyftrot. Outside this room, it's just a notebook. As malleable as anything else the anomaly decides to RESET. I open the book and begin speed reading. My mind quickly slips into the once daily ritual, reviewing each entry and mentally mapping it into a tree structure. A branching, winding road of what-ifs that never came to pass. And, occasionally, the one entry that did happen in the current timeline. None of the entries are new to me, of course. I did this right after we left Ebott, every time. And then, every time, Frisk would RESET. Except the last time. 

The early pages are all about my attempts to get the machine working. I was never the type to keep a diary, so it's dense with physics and equations, and light on the mundane, everyday details that make up the rest of the book. It took an embarrassingly long time to figure out the RESETs weren't my fault. I was so sure the machine was malfunctioning. I continue turning pages, into what I now know was Flowey's dark period. Lots of people dying senselessly. I never did manage to write down the root cause, probably because he would either kill me or RESET before I got the chance. But none of it matters now. 

I start flipping pages faster. There's a noticeable shift here, when Frisk took over the RESET button from Flowey. It's a very simple pattern. They show up, they make friends with Papyrus, Undyne, and sometimes Alphys, I do my shtick, and then we all black out and wake up with the barrier gone. The entries begin to blur together, as my past selves wrote increasingly abbreviated notes about the same sequence of events, over and over again. Finally, I catch up to the last entry, where Frisk and Asriel explained the latter's problem (and I once again internally facepalm for ignoring my brother and his "talking flower"). Nothing new here. So Frisk hasn't done a RESET, yet. All the same, I grab a pen and make a new entry. 

"Frisk kept their promise so far," I write. "But Toriel found out about Asriel's past, and now she's asking to talk to me. Will tell her as much as I can. I just hope Frisk doesn't decide this is a good time to RESET. Hopefully, though, this is my final entry. The true anomaly finally got what it wanted." I stop and think about whether there's anything else to add, and decide to put in Asriel's story. If we somehow do end up in a RESET, it might prove useful to know what makes the flower tick. Then I remember Frisk telling me about the time they accidentally killed Toriel. Should I add that? Well... no. They regretted it instantly and it may as well have never happened at all. I trust them, even if they did RESET a little more than I'd like. 

_So, if we RESET, future me won't know about that. Wonder if past me ever kept any secrets?_ The thought is a jarring one, and I stare at the notebook with sudden suspicion. But it's not like there's anything I can do about it now, so I shrug it off. 

I add the date, and slap the book shut. And with that, I'm done. RESETs erase conscious knowledge, but they don't affect more subtle forms of memory. So even though I can't carry the story itself across a RESET, I've gotten a lot of practice at quickly memorizing stuff. By now, I can hold the whole thing in my head for hours at a time, and refresh that memory in just a few minutes of skimming. I should have enough detail to explain anything Toriel wants to know. 

* * *

I shortcut back to the base of Ebott, and then to the park near Salem. The latter is another longcut, and I pause to catch my breath. The terminus is, conveniently, in a secluded area behind the public restrooms, so I brace myself on the wall for a moment. My strength returns, and I walk around to the other side. I spot Toriel sitting on a bench, and stroll on over, trying to look casual. A few humans glance at me, but none of them look too shocked at my skeletal appearance. They've all gotten used to the idea of monsters walking around in public. 

I sit down next to her. "The kids all right?"

"They are with Asgore," she replies. "Perhaps he will be able to bring my son the peace I have denied him."

I think about how to parse that. "What do you mean?" I ask, giving up. "He was really happy to see you, back in New Home."

"And since then, I've hurt him at every turn!" she snaps. "My refusal to speak with his father, the way I commemorated Chara and the Six..." She pauses to wipe her eyes. "I have put my pride before my son's happiness. Don't you see, Sans?"

Oh. That's not where I was expecting this conversation to go. My usual recourse is to humor, but I don't think that will work this time. "Tori, you can't blame yourself. You didn't know."

"It was my responsibility to know. He is my son. Ignorance only makes my failure that much worse." She sounds very certain about that. 

I hear a peal of laughter nearby. Some kids are playing soccer. Most of 'em are human, but it looks like they invited that armless kid from Snowdin to join in. They all look like they're having fun. The monster kid is a natural at putting the ball right where they want it. Suddenly, they trip and fall over. A teammate goes to help them up, but they refuse. They get up on their own, and everyone goes right back to playing, like nothing happened. 

"We're all just doing our best, y'know. Everybody has problems they don't talk about. Sometimes, we hurt each other without meaning to. Sometimes, we try to help and only make things worse. What matters is the trying."

She stares at me for a long time, a shocked expression on her face. When she eventually speaks, it's in a low voice. "And here I thought you nothing more than a comedian. Where have you been hiding that wisdom, Sans?"

Well, that makes for a nice transition. "In my workshop, back in Snowdin. I'd show it to you, but I think Gyftrot'd bite my head off if I went back there again."

"I see," she lies, the confusion written all over her face. 

_Now, here's hoping _she_ doesn't bite my head off._ I take a moment to gather my thoughts. "Asriel and Frisk will have told you about the RESETs, right? Well, I've been keeping a journal that's sorta... outside the regular timeline. I never figured out exactly what was going on, but I did know a lot more than I let on."

"I see," she repeats, a note of disappointment creeping into her voice. "Did you know anything about Asriel?"

"No. I think he must've, well, ended those timelines before I had a chance to write anything down. Still, I did figure a few things out when Frisk and Asriel walked out of the Ruins together."

"And at that time, did you know what my son had done?" she demands with a sharp edge. 

"I wasn't 100% certain, but I had a pretty good idea. I guess I figured he'd tell you when he was ready."

Her expression immediately softens. "Then, you were trying to protect him from the pain he is now going through. A noble purpose, if perhaps a tad myopic. But why did you come to our house? I assume it was not a social visit."

"Nope. I wasn't exactly Asriel's biggest fan after I figured out what he had done. Frisk wanted us to make friends. And they were right about that, as usual." I sigh. "Look, your son, he's a good kid who got put in a bad situation. But I really think he should talk to a professional."

"I know," she replies. "But that raises a host of more difficult questions. The humans may have a bizarre and inadequate understanding of magic and the harder sciences, but their knowledge of psychology vastly exceeds our own. It is perhaps because we are more neurodiverse than them and more difficult to study, perhaps a difference in cultural priorities, or perhaps mere happenstance. Regardless, such a professional would likely need to be human, given the extent of Asriel's trauma."

I shudder. "They're good at putting people in boxes, sure, but actual treatment is pretty hit-or-miss with them." My brain runs with that idea for a moment. "And you're afraid they're gonna run around diagnosing every monster with random "disorders" just 'cause we're different."

She nods, staring off into the distance. "Precisely so. That is not a precedent we wish to set at this early stage of reintegration. And then we must consider the political situation, or _optics,_ as the humans are so fond of saying." She spits the word out like a broken tooth. "What would it mean if the brother of the ambassador had a history of violence?"

The question hangs in the air over both of us. I wonder about Asgore, too, but I guess a declaration of war isn't exactly the same as personally killing someone. This probably isn't the time to bring that up, anyway. 

"So you're not gonna do it?" I finally ask. 

She huffs. "Don't be absurd. Of course I will find him a therapist. However, I will need to seek out someone I can trust. That will take time."

I nod. "OK. Now, I have a question for you. It's really important."

Toriel breaks off from scanning the horizon, and turns to face me. "All right. What is it?"

I switch to my serious face, the one I used on Frisk all those times at the MTT resort. The one with no eyes. "What happened to the pancakes?"

She snorts, then lets out a nice, hearty laugh. 

"Good, you still remember how to do that." I put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I know things seem pretty bad right now. But don't forget, he's better now than he was a year ago. Give it time."

She nods. "It is difficult to take the long perspective, at times like these. Thank you for your counsel, Sans."

"Any time, Tori."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: Does Sans really not know about Flowey?  
> A: I think it's open to interpretation. On the lunch “date,” lying vs. telling the truth makes no difference, so I think it's unclear whether he was testing Frisk, or genuinely didn't know.
> 
> Q: Why did you make Papyrus smart?  
> A: Because there's no explicit canon evidence that he's an idiot.
> 
> Q: But what about the date? Doesn't he look pretty dumb in that?  
> A: No, he is obviously asexual, and Sans has obviously neglected to give him the “birds and bees” talk, so he has no idea what he is doing or what this “date” thing even means. That doesn't make him stupid, it just makes him ignorant.
> 
> Q: Wait... what?  
> A: Well, I thought it was obvious, anyway. He certainly never shows any signs of attraction to anyone else, aside from one reference to Mettaton as a “sexy rectangle,” and that's just an objective fact.
> 
> Q: Wait... what?  
> A: (“Death By Glamour” plays)


	3. Bergentrückung

Asgore 

My arms, wrapped tight around my son's form. His sobs, wracking his body. My heart, fracturing. The moment had seemed to stretch into eternity. Yet here we are, not ten minutes later, sitting around my kitchen table drinking tea, as if everything were normal again. 

"Feeling better, dad?" asks Asriel. His voice is still uneven from crying. He takes another sip of the chamomile. There is no golden flower tea in my house, of course. I discarded it after Frisk and Asriel told everyone about his fate as "Flowey." At the time, I had not realized the depths of my son's trauma, but even then it was obvious that his time as a flower had not been pleasant. 

"I was about to ask you that," I reply. My own voice is just as unsteady. 

Nobody says anything for the longest time. The silence is broken by Frisk's cell phone. They pull it out and look at the screen. 

"I'm really sorry," they say. "It's from the Bureau. I have to take it." When we made contact with the American government, the humans had scrambled to legally recognize monsters and treat us as equals. Bizarrely, however, they seemed incapable of cutting through their own red tape, despite an obvious desire to move quickly towards full integration. After a few hours of political back-and-forth, it had been decided that we technically qualified as a "Native American tribe," by virtue of having inhabited Mount Ebott since before the founding of the United States. Thus, the Bureau of Indian Affairs assumed responsibility for us. A nonsense, to be sure, but apparently a necessary one. At least in the short term, anyway. 

Frisk answers the phone. "Hello... How much trouble?... OK, I'll be right over." They hang up. "It's nothing serious, but I have to go bail a monster out of jail."

My ears perk up at that. "Frisk, you know one incident could—"

"It's fine, dad," they interrupt. "The cops were just gonna call their parents, anyway. But somebody mentioned it to somebody else, and before you know it, they're on the phone with me "just in case.""

I relax. Of course the humans are being reasonable. No one wants another war. "Would you like me to drive you?"

"That's OK, I can walk." They pause, a concerned expression hovering on their lips. "Are you two gonna be all right?"

Asriel nods. "Yeah, eventually."

I bow my head for a moment. "Go, Frisk. We will manage."

Frisk nods, and walks through my front door. It squeaks as they close it behind them. 

"Dad?" says Asriel, his voice very small. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my son."

"How do you..." He breaks off, seeming lost for words. "How do you cope? With... y'know, after mom left."

I take a deep breath, and exhale slowly. I knew this conversation would come one day, but I had not anticipated having it while he was still so young. "You are asking about the Six." The children I murdered in cold blood. 

"Y-yeah. After everything that happened, after how long it's been since the last time you..." _Killed someone._ He trails off without saying it. "Does it still hurt?"

He is not asking solely out of concern for his father, of course. But lying to him would only make things worse. "It will always hurt, and it always should. I hold that pain close, because there is nothing I can do to absolve myself of my actions." I take another sip of tea. "But, some days are easier than others. My pain is not a prison, smothering me under its weight. It is a part of me. It motivates me, to do better for our people in the future, and to find and apologize to the descendant families of those I killed. To give up that pain would be to blind myself to the consequences of my actions."

"Oh." He stares into his tea, wearing a morose expression. "That makes sense."

Obviously, that was not what he wanted to hear. "Let's go outside," I suggest. Maybe a change of scenery will do him good. 

* * *

A gentle breeze tousles Asriel's hair. He brushes it out of his eyes. "Wow."

Before us, my garden is in full bloom. Rather than focusing on one flower, as I had in the Underground, I've got a little of everything. Roses, lilies, orchids, and many others, carefully laid out with just enough negative space for each piece to breathe. Living alone, I have had little else to concentrate on. But perhaps I should have made more time for my son. 

I guide him to a particular arrangement. It is a smaller planter, several cultivars of tulip arrayed in a simple rainbow. I remember that Asriel had always refused to pick a favorite color, back when—No. That time is over, now. 

"Did... you make this for me?" Asriel bends over and takes a deep sniff. "They're wonderful. I didn't even know tulips came in blue or green."

"Thank you," I reply. "Do you know why I did this? All of it, I mean?" I gesture to the rest of the garden. 

Asriel shakes his head. 

"No matter how bad things may get, there is still beauty in the world. We can always do good, always make others smile. It may not make up for past indiscretions, but that is not the point. Life is not a game played with a scorecard. Life is what we make of it, each and every day. My son, you cannot live with your gaze fixed over your shoulder. It will not be easy. Those memories will always be with you. But you are strong. Trapped in a cycle of violence and hatred, you broke free of it, and saved us all. So do not let yourself doubt." I place my hands on his shoulders. They are shaking again. "Asriel, you deserve to be here. You deserve to walk on the surface, to feel the sun on your skin and the wind in your fur, and to be loved. Let no one question that, least of all yourself."

Asriel wipes his eyes, and reaches out. We embrace once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: Since when can Frisk speak?  
> A: Frisk uses the phone all the time in canon, and the other characters' dialog indicates that Frisk must be telling them things by some means. It is very difficult to use sign language over the phone, so I assume that Frisk can speak.
> 
> Q: No, I mean, Frisk couldn't speak two chapters ago, so...?  
> A: Frisk is always speaking normally. Chara just narrates it weirdly.
> 
> Q: Why tulips?  
> A: For several reasons:
> 
>   * Tulips have a distinctive shape, and look very different from golden flowers. 
>   * Tulips have some symbolism, but the meaning varies by color. A rainbow arrangement would have no particular meaning (or multiple incompatible meanings), so that Asgore and company can give it their own meaning. 
>   * Tulips come in many colors and varieties. With enough time and effort, you probably could make a rainbow planter with them, unlike most other flowers. 
> 



	4. Don't Give Up

Monster Kid 

The officer opens my cell door. "Kid, your friend's here. Time to go home." He takes me to the front desk of the police station. The police chief is still sitting behind the desk. He looks a bit nervous, though I have no idea why. 

"MK!" says Frisk. "Are you all right? What happened?"

I puff out my chest a bit. "Yo, nothing I couldn't handle. Just a few hours in the slammer."

"You were in there for less than twenty minutes," says the officer. Killjoy. 

Frisk shakes their head. "Timing aside, what did you do, anyway?"

I deflate a bit. "Well... our soccer ball might've... um, gone a bit wide of its mark?"

"So it hit something?"

I nod. "Yeah, it was some guy's car. He was real mad."

"All right. Then what happened?" they ask. 

"They arrested me."

Frisk suddenly looks really upset. "That's not a crime!" They turn to the officer. "What the hell did you arrest them for?"

The officer pulls out a rap sheet. "Let's see here. Loitering, creating a public nuisance, violating traffic ordinances—"

"What a load of crap!" interrupts Frisk. "Like you really would've arrested a human for that."

"Excuse me?" replies the officer. 

The chief stands up. "Jenkins, go in the back and fill out the rest of your paperwork."

"Sir, I already—"

"Then fill out something else." There's a certain steel in the man's voice. 

The officer hesitates for just a moment. "Yessir, Chief." He disappears into the bowels of the station. 

The chief sighs heavily. "Look, I'm real sorry about all this, Ambassador. We're working on sensitivity training, but some of my officers, well..."

Frisk nods. "I'm prepared to accept that. This time." Their face darkens in a way I've never seen before. "But you know, my friends at the ACLU told me they were looking for instances of humans discriminating against monsters. Something about "finding a test case." I hear those are really expensive to litigate. I dunno if this little situation would've qualified, but I'd suggest you get your house in order before they find out." They brighten up again. "Now, are we free to go?"

"Of course, Mx. Dreemurr," he replies. He looks a bit shaken, as if he's never been threatened by a ten-year-old before. "I'll... call the DA and get the wheels turning on expunging this incident."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Yo, Frisk, that was so cool!" We're walking the short distance to Asgore's house, because I know I'll be grounded forever once my parents find out what happened. I'd rather put that off for as long as possible. "You're like half his size, but you had him scared stiff! Do you do that stuff all the time?"

"No," they reply. They sound kind of glum. "It's usually not that easy. Discrimination is a really hard problem. People will make up lots of ridiculous excuses, like that officer tried to. But they aren't always so obvious about it. A lot of them are politicians or lawyers, and they've gotten very good at gaming the system in all kinds of subtle ways."

"Man, that sucks," I reply. "Sounds like you've got some friends on your side, though."

Frisk nods. "Yeah, the ACLU is pretty controversial, but they've been very pro monster rights. I'm trying not to lean on them too heavily. Nobody likes lawsuits, and monster approval ratings are still up for grabs. But when the chips are down, they're the lawyers I want on our side of the table, every time."

"So... uh, how are things at home?"

Frisk stops, and I follow suit. "I just realized that you probably shouldn't visit right now. Things are actually pretty messed up."

My thoughts immediately go to Asriel. I could always tell that something important was bothering him, but I never figured out what it was. "What's wrong? Is Azzy OK?"

Frisk bites their lip. "It's not my place to say."

I step in front of them and look into their eyes. "Frisk, please! He's my friend. I want to help him."

They stare right back. "I'm not sure there's anything to be done, MK."

"What even happened? Did the grownups find out about that time-travel stuff?"

Frisk sighs, and we start walking again. We're getting closer now. "Yes, but it's more complicated than that. Azzy... I shouldn't be telling you this."

"If you don't tell me, I can't help him."

They frown. "All right. In a previous timeline, he killed some people."

That is so startling that I trip over my own feet and faceplant. I straighten up. "He what? Asriel? You sure you got the right monster, there?"

They nod. "You know he was soulless, right? He couldn't feel anything, about anyone. And he stayed that way for so long. Eventually, watching other people's happiness just wasn't enough for him."

"But he's Azzy. He'd never hurt anyone!"

Frisk shrugs as we approach Asgore's house. "He wasn't himself. We both know he's a good guy now, but too much loneliness can really mess a person up." They unlock the front door with a key from their keychain. "MK, I appreciate seeing you, but I really think you should head home."

That still doesn't make sense to me. "Well... he was a time traveler. You both were."

Their hand pauses on the knob. "Yes?"

"He went back and undid everything, right? All those people are alive now?"

Frisk looks a bit uncertain. "I would assume so. I wasn't there for that part, but I think we'd know if someone was still..." They trail off. 

"I want to talk to him."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? He's in a really bad place right now."

I scoff. "Frisk, what kind of friend would I be if I wasn't there for him now?"

"All right." They twist the handle, and the door opens. 

The house is empty. Frisk spots a note on the kitchen table, and quickly reads it. "They're both outside," they reply. We head out to the backyard. 

As we step out into the afternoon sun, I take a moment to appreciate the king's hard work. The colors and scents are nearly overwhelming. But it's not just the garden. The sky is a deep and serene shade of blue, with barely a cloud in sight. I hear birds and insects humming, as they pollinate everything. And the most amazing part, over the past two weeks I could swear that all of the plant life, throughout the entire town, has been getting steadily more lively, all while the weather has been getting nicer and the days longer, as if the world is cheering us on. It's so different from living underground. And Asriel is the monster who put us here. 

"Children, there you are!" calls Asgore. He steps out from behind a particularly tall shrub arrangement, his son in tow. Azzy looks terrible, like he's been crying. "As it is getting rather late," continues Asgore, "I will prepare something for the four of us to eat. Be good, children." He goes inside. 

Asriel stares at me. Then at Frisk. "You told them."

Frisk nods. "I thought it would be easier if—"

"If they hated me?" he interrupts. 

"Asriel—"

"Don't "Asriel" me. You always do this, Chara. It's always about what _you_ think."

Frisk is quiet for a moment. "Azzy, Chara is dead."

"You could've fooled me, Frisk!" He turns to me, a furious look in his eyes. "And you. What the heck are you doing here? Come to stare at the serial killer? Like I'm some _thing_ in a zoo?"

I shake my head. "You're my friend, no matter what happened before."

"You've known me for two weeks. Be serious."

"I am." Two weeks may not be a lot of time, but it's long enough to know what kind of monster he is. And he is not a killer. 

He throws up his hands in exasperation. "So you'll just forgive anyone because they were nice to you, is that it?" He pauses. "I killed you once, you know."

I didn't know that. But that's not the point. "No, you didn't."

Asriel's face twists into an unsettling grin. "Yes, I did. I watched you suffer. It was fun."

It hurts to hear him say that, but even if it's true, it sounds fake, like he's trying to push me away. He's probably hurting more than I am. I lower my tail in a negative gesture. "Dude, I'm here now, so you didn't kill me."

Asriel starts. Behind him, Frisk raises an eyebrow. "Maybe you don't understand how this works," Asriel says. 

"No, I know exactly how it works. You both explained the RESETs to me, remember? The two of you are the only people in the whole world who can even remember any of that stuff. For the rest of us, it never happened. So you never killed me." Frisk nods silently, approving. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snaps. "I should just... pretend it was all a dream? Pretend I didn't choose to kill all those people?"

My tail does a shrug. "It's all a matter of perspective."

Asriel is staring at me in disbelief. I may have pushed a bit too hard. "Perspective?" he repeats. "People died. How can you possibly think that way?"

"Yo, you should try it some time!"

"I can't take this anymore. You're both crazy!" He yanks the back door open, and slams it behind him. 

"Thank you," says Frisk. "He needed to hear that from someone outside the family. Once he's turned it over in his head a few times, I think it'll help."

"Frisk, is he gonna be all right?"

They nod, looking off into the sunset. "He's had good days and bad. Today was... kind of a mixed bag. But I'll get him through it. No matter what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: What is Monster Kid going on about with “all of the plant life”?  
> A: It's Spring. Everything is blooming and growing ever more intensely with each passing day. They have never seen that happen before, because the Underground does not have seasons.
> 
> To be more precise, it's probably around May or so. Temperatures are relatively mild (by eastern MA standards), most plant life is in or near full bloom, but the day length is still changing quickly enough to be noticeable.
> 
> Q: Is MK right?  
> A: I don't know. I'm not a psychologist. MK's suggestions are meant to very loosely resemble Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, while still being plausible for a kid to come up with. I lack the expertise to figure out if this would actually help. Realistically, Asriel should talk to a therapist.


	5. His Theme

Chara 

You stare into the darkness of your room. It's late, but you can't sleep now. Asriel hasn't said a word since you left Asgore's house. 

"Frisk," he whispers, as if reading your thoughts. 

You whisper his name back. 

"I'm sorry I called you crazy," he says quietly. 

You're sorry you told MK about Asriel's past. 

"You were over the line," he replies. "Never do that again." A pause. "But I'm glad you told them. It would've been hard to do it myself."

You ask if Asriel has thought about what MK told him. 

You hear the sound of sheets rustling, and realize that Asriel is shuddering. "I can't stop thinking about it. It's like my mind is at war with itself."

You remain silent. 

"Dad told me I had to hold onto those feelings, because they're part of me. But MK said to pretend it never happened. And Mom keeps telling me she'll love me no matter what. Like she's trying to convince herself of it."

You aren't sure that's the most helpful way to think about things. 

"I know. But I've been doing that for so long, analyzing people... it's hard to shut that part of my brain off, y'know? But I'm starting to realize I never really understood anyone in the first place. I only figured out how to make them do stuff by trial and error." He rolls over to face you. "So, do you really think I should just forget it all and pretend to be a regular kid?"

You doubt that "pretending" is what MK had in mind. It's more like "reframing."

"Go on."

Asriel's choices and actions were important, and you don't think he should try to deny that. But he should acknowledge the series of events that brought him to that point. He should recognize that things have changed. He should accept that Flowey's crimes no longer exist. You don't want him to be trapped in a past that nobody else remembers. 

A long silence. "I don't know if I can do all of that just yet."

He doesn't have to do it all at once. He just has to keep trying. And you'll always be there to help him along. 

"How long d'you think that'll take?"

It'll take as long as it takes. You both have plenty of time ahead. 

Helping your brother feel a little better every day... it fills you with determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: If Flowey never understood what was going on in Papyrus's head, why did he like him so much?  
> A: My basic assumption here is that Flowey has low empathy, in addition to his other problems. In more concrete terms, that means he has difficulty understanding the emotional states of others, especially from nonverbal cues like facial expressions or body language. Empathy is a real, clinical term, which is measured in a (relatively) objective sense when diagnosing people with Autism Spectrum Disorder and some other mental conditions. It's not just another variation of “being a good person.” People with low empathy are not “bad” or evil, they're just different.
> 
> On the other hand, Flowey also has no compassion and no ethical restraint. Compassion, unlike empathy, is less about sharing in someone else's feelings and more about consciously valuing those feelings and choosing to help. So he's going to see other monsters as black boxes to be experimented on. Once Flowey has a solid mental model of how a given monster behaves, he “gets bored” and moves on to something or someone else. At that point, he uses his knowledge of the previous monster to predict the behavior of the next monster. This works surprisingly well, because people are predictable. As a result, Flowey concludes that most monsters are “boring.”
> 
> Papyrus is “interesting” to Flowey because his behavior is atypical, and it's therefore harder for Flowey to predict what Papyrus will do based on the behavior of other monsters. Flowey sees this as a challenge to be overcome.
> 
> (The above is my head canon, but I think it fits the circumstantial evidence fairly well.)

**Author's Note:**

> Changelog: 
> 
>   * Content warning for racism added 2020-06-22. 
> 



End file.
